Vortigaunt and the Larry
by Ghost Rider1
Summary: New chapter finally! Larry and his vortigaunt friend Morty try to escape the terror of Ravenholm and find their place in destiny. Next one won't take me so long.
1. A Fateful Meeting

Click.

…

Click.

…

Click.

The vortigaunt changed the channel again, pausing for a moment to observe the program, then moving on. The glow from the TV was the only light in their small space and the repeated flashing between channels was giving his human companion a headache.

"Why do you watch that thing anyway?" he asked.

"We find the human culture fascinating," the vortigaunt replied.

"Ugh," the human said. "It's just Breen on every channel anyway."

The vortigaunt changed the channel again, clicking onto the next every three seconds, just like he'd done for the last three hours. The human sighed. Eli had asked the two of them to hold open the lookout for the underground railroad. He didn't mention spending all his time stuck in a cold, rusty and dark boxcar with a vortigaunt. Larry was starting to go paranoid stuck in the dark box with only that TV and his red-eyed comrade.

"Of all the resistance, I get stuck with the vorty. Why could I have gotten holed up here with Nancy?"

"The Larry does not approve of our contribution to the resistance?" the vortigaunt asked.

"For the last time, it's just Larry! Not _the_ Larry. Just Larry," he responded. "And you're doing fine, Morty. There's nothing to do anyway."

"Why do you continue to refer to us as Morty?"

"Because your name is …" the Morty cut him off.

"Our name cannot be comprehended by the human brain," Morty recited.

"Exactly."

Morty clicked to the next channel.

"Hey, you hear that?" Larry whispered. A nearby siren screamed to life. It flew closer, then sped away just as fast.

"We heard that."

"Shhh ... turn that TV off," Larry hissed. The vortigaunt turned the volume down instead, just in time to hear the footsteps of several people trotting by outside. "Must be Civil Protection. Crap. Shouldn't have wasted your charge on that dumb TV."

"The Larry worries needlessly. We are ready to defend ourselves."

"Relax, it sounds like they passed," Larry said. Morty turned the volume up slightly, and hunched closer to listen. On the tracks above, a razor train roared by. The 1:30 from Nova Prospekt. Was it actually running late? Trains to the Citadel are never late. Something must be going on up there.

"The Larry must look! We have found a new program," the vortigaunt said. He almost sounded excited. On the screen, a pale face with a flat haircut and a blue suit stared from the screen. Larry couldn't say why, but this guy's eyes were giving him the creeps. Was it some kind of psych-trick from Breen?

Before Larry could give it much more thought, something clanked against the metal rungs on the side of the boxcar. Someone was climbing.

Larry cursed and began reaching for the pistol taped to the underside of a little table next to him.

Suddenly the roof hatch swung open, but instead of CP, a human face with brown hair, a beard and glasses looked in. Another civilian, Larry thought, finally.

The man hopped into the boxcar. He wore some strange kind of full-body armor that looked like a variation of what the CPs wear. The man said nothing.

"Good god! Guess those sirens are for you, huh?" Larry said. "Good thing you found us. You're not the first to come through by a. …" Morty interrupted him again.

"This is the Free Man, the reckoning of the Combine has come," the vortigaunt said. Their visitor seemed a little unsure of the alien, holding his pistol before him cautiously. Larry had no idea what he was talking about.

"Look, we're just a lookout for the underground railroad. Main station is right around the corner. They will get you started on the right foot," Larry said, thinking that the new guy looked like he could use a charge. "Meanwhile let my vortigaunt friend here give you a jolt to get going."

The air hummed and Larry felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as Morty charged his energy. Hopefully he has enough left after wasting it on that TV, Larry thought.

Morty fired his energy beam into one of the suit's receptors.

"That is all we can spare," the vortigaunt said.

"Be careful now, we _really_ can't afford to get noticed. Civil Protection catches you down here, it's bad news for the whole railroad," Larry said. Again the man said nothing. He looked uncertain, even confused, but somehow calm for someone fleeing from the CPs.

"We serve the same mystery," Morty said. Larry gave him a confused look, but couldn't tell if it registered. He could never tell what the alien was thinking. His face is all eyeball.

"Get outta here," Larry said, swinging open the side door. The man jumped out and ran off.

"What the heck was all that Free Man and mystery talk about?" Larry asked. "You're such a weirdo."

"We have history with the Free Man," Morty said. "The Free Man is a sign of change. The Free Man …"

"Alright, alright! Sorry I asked. God." Larry stopped in thought for a moment. "Do you think we should have warned him about the barnacles ahead?" Immediately the steady thumping of a hunter-chopper thundered overhead and then off into the distance. Two more sirens screamed after it.

"The Larry must leave this place with us," Morty said. "The time has come for the vortigaunt to undo what has been done." Larry had no idea what he was talking about, but liked the sound of leaving.

"Yeah you're probably right, Morty. This place is getting way too hot," Larry said. "But we should wait for word from the Black Mesa."

"We know the Larry does not trust us, but The Larry must trust us now


	2. Venturing Forth

Chapter 2 – Venturing Forth

The lone Civil Protection officer jumped down into the canal and waded through the waist deep water to the red boxcar. The officer grabbed the first rung, hauled itself up and climbed to the top. It threw open the roof hatch, gun drawn, but could only see darkness inside. Leaning in to get a closer look at the shadows, a red circle opened in the darkness, vaguely resembling a huge, freakish eye. The officer heard a deep growl, immediately followed by a gunshot. The last thing it saw in the pistol's flash was a civilian, a vortigaunt and a television.

"That's enough motivation for me to get out of here," Larry said as the officer's body tumbled backward and splashed outside.

"Then let us venture forth," the vortigaunt replied. He swung the door open and grabbed the small television that sat on a table.

"You're not really bringing that thing, are you?" Larry asked. "What good is a TV going to be?"

"We can learn much from the television," Morty said. "And we get enjoyment from watching it."

The pair hopped out and crawled through the piled up wreckage. They emerged to daylight on the other side. Larry stood up, and what felt like a thick rope lay across the back of his neck.

"What the ... a barnacle! Crap! Kill it, Morty! KILL IT!" Larry thrashed and flailed, but the vortigaunt only stared at the monster hanging above him.

"Kill it! For god's sake!" Larry dropped to his knees, realizing he hadn't been pulled into the air, and the monster's tongue hadn't wrapped around his neck. He looked up to see the barnacle's insides hanging out of its mouth and its face riddled with bullet holes.

"Why didn't you tell me it was dead Morty?" Larry asked between gasps for breath.

"The Larry amuses us."

"You're twisted, you know that? I guess that guy in the weird suit got him. Good, I hate barnacles, almost as much as I hate those damn headcr…."

The sound of machine gun fire rang out ahead, followed by missile fire and explosions. Larry felt sorry for that poor bastard with the glasses they had just sent in that direction. The vortigaunt began to move in that direction, the TV held under his middle arm.

"Whoa where are you going?" Larry shouted.

"We must follow the Free Man."

"That Freeman guy was probably just on the receiving end of those bullets, and if not those then definitely the missiles," Larry said. "We need to find another way."

"The Free Man survived," the vortigaunt replied. "The Free Man will lead us to the Day of Reckoning."

"Well right now he's not leading us anywhere. The CPs are after him, so we are getting as far from him as possible. Let's find another underground station and get in touch with Vance."

Larry kicked open a grate on the canal wall and headed into the dark sewers. The vortigaunt reluctantly followed.

They walked on for several minutes, looking for the telltale Lambda marker that would lead them to the next station. There were so many of them spray-painted on the streets that the Combine hadn't figured out they had more meaning than just a symbol. It was in places like this that they served as directions to people who were looking for them. The pair turned a corner, then another.

Ahead in the darkness, a Lambda marker glowed in the darkness. The sign was painted on the wall next to a branch in the sewer. This was the way to the next station. "Yes! We're in business," Larry said.

He turned the corner, and ran straight into a Civil Protection officer, knocking both of them over. He pulled out the pistol tucked into his belt and fired twice into the CP's chest. The radio rang out and the dispatcher gave them away.

"Infection detected," a female voice stated. "Sterilize and remove." Footsteps echoed down the pipe along with the gruff sounding radio chatter between CPs.

"Let's get outta here before they catch up," Larry whispered.

"No. We must defend ourselves," Morty replied.

"Come on, the last thing we need is more attention." But before Larry could drag himself to his feet, the glowing eyes of four CPs appeared in the tunnel before them.

"There they are!" the CPs shouted. Larry tried to scramble to his feet, but Morty pushed him firmly back to the ground. The vortigaunt calmly leaned over and put his television down on the sewer floor next to him. Bullets whizzed by their heads.

"Zap them already!" Larry screamed. Morty brought his two outside hands together as yellow bolts of light shot off the pipe walls and into his body. ZzzzzzzzZZZAPP! The Vortigaunt thrust his hands forward, shooting a lighting bolt forward and blasting the CPs backward into the pipe and against the wall at the end of the tunnel.

"Nice shooting. Now let's go," Larry said. He pushed the TV into the Vortigaunt's middle hand. Behind them, steel saws grated on concrete somewhere nearby. "Manhacks, great!" Larry and Morty jogged off down the pipe, past the sizzling bodies of the dead CPs.


	3. Close Shave

Close Shave

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, the woman tapped the end of the clip, then turned it over and blew into it. Carefully, she inserted round after round into it until it was full, then snapped it into the bottom of her machine gun.

Things were quiet this morning, but it looked like the afternoon was going to turn ugly, she thought. She stood, dusting off her standard blue civilian clothes, and lifted the receiver off the radio.

Before she could speak, the rickety wooden door leading into the sewers burst open. Another resistance member tumbled into the little sewer alcove. He was bleeding from long gashes on his face and arms, blood soaking his clothes.

"Oh shit! Oh shit!" he yelled, kicking frantically at the door. He leapt up, threw his weight against it and slammed down the lock.

"Sam! Oh my god, what happened?" She led him over to a crate to sit down. "Those cuts are deep, let me look at them."

"Manhacks. … They're everywhere. Station 6 is gone." Sam paused a moment to catch his breath. "Karen, they found the railroad." She already knew. Three more refugees had already passed through fleeing from 6. Sam must have stayed to try and defend it. Same old stubborn Sam, she thought.

After applying alcohol and bandaging Sam's wounds, Karen went back to the radio to see how bad it was.

"Station 12, come in. Station 12 do you read?" Karen said. There was a second of silence.

"This is Station 8! We heard 12 go down and out!" a male voice shouted. "Surgical strike units are targeting the railway stations! Repeat Civil Protection is coming down on the stations! We are already getting refugees from 9 and outlying, looks like …" and then there was just static.

"Station 8, do you copy? Station 8, are you there? We have confirmed reports of manhacks. Repeat they are filling the underground with manhacks!" Karen yelled into the radio, but she had a sick feeling they already knew. "I think it's time to go Sam."

As she started to lift him off the crate, Karen froze. Somewhere outside the door Sam had just come through she heard it: the telltale sound of metal grating on concrete and the whirring of the blades. The thought of the little flying saws sent chills down her spine, and she knew that she wasn't going to get anywhere carrying Sam.

"Nevermind, we're staying here," Karen said.

"No Karen, get out of here. I'll buy you some time."

"No way. You're in no condition to fight," Karen said, the buzzing drawing closer. "Besides, what would you do if the situation was reversed?" Sam passed out from blood loss before he could answer.

Suddenly the wooden door began to splinter and crack in two places as shiny metal blades cut through them. The manhacks pulled out, before both attacked the door in new places and cut a gaping hole in the door. The first flew in, and Karen riddled it with bullets, sparks flying everywhere. It exploded in a hail of metal, and was quickly replaced by two more.

One soared at Karen and she fired, then quickly ducked before it could slice into her. She quickly emptied her clip at the second and it exploded. She turned just in time to see the first fly at her leg, cutting deep into her right thigh.

"Gaaahhhhh!" Karen screamed. She fell, beating the manhack into a wall with her empty gun. It exploded. She looked over at Sam, still unconscious, and tried to crawl to the radio. She froze as a solitary manhack floated through the destroyed door. It hovered for a moment, as if trying to decide who to attack first. Then, it flew toward Sam. Karen could only watch and scream.

The machine finished, turning toward her.

Suddenly, a heavy weight fell against the still intact door into the canal. BOOM! BOOM! Someone was trying to break through it. Karen thought it must be Civil Protection coming to finish up. Registering the sound, the manhack turned toward the door. It shot open, but instead of CPs, on the other side stood a dark haired resistance member dressed in civilian clothes, carrying a pistol, and a vortigaunt clutching a TV. The manhack zoomed forward. The human took careful aim and fired; the machine exploded in one shot.

"The female human needs medical attention," the vortigaunt said.

"Do you have any medkits?" Larry asked, closing the door they just entered. Karen shook her head, having just used the last of the first aid supplies on her now dead friend. "What about him?"

"He is beyond intervention," the vortigaunt said. Siren screamed by outside, and gunfire popped in the distance.

"What the hell is going on?" Karen asked.

"We need to get you somewhere safe," Larry said. "It's getting worse by the minute out there. All of Civil Protection is out in force, and there are manhacks all over the damn place." As if on cue, the whirring of metal blades came to life outside, along with the chatter of CP radios. Larry tried to lift the woman to her feet.

"Just leave me here," she said. "I'll only slow you down."

"We're not going to just throw you to the manhacks" Larry said in disbelief. Karen grabbed his pistol and handed him the empty SMG.

"There are some clips by the door. I won't need them." Several manhacks crashed through the door and an officer fired blindly inside. Larry was about to protest when he saw the red fuel drum next to the door they had just come through. Karen fired a single shot into it, and flames sparked to life.

"GO!" Larry shoved Morty through the destroyed door into the sewer and dived in after him. The last he saw, two CP officers rushed into the room, their guns on the injured woman. Next thing he knew the two of them were blown down a set of metal stairs by the explosion, splashing into sewage at the bottom.

Larry jumped to his feet, spitting out the foul water that got into his mouth and trying not to throw up. The vortigaunt sat calmly on the bottom step, completely dry and still holding on to that little television.

"The Larry should not drink the water here," Morty said.

"Thanks for the tip," Larry said. "That was the second station we went to that was attacked. I think we need to get off the railroad."

"We agree that would be wise."

"Alright. Might as well head straight for Black Mesa now. I know of another way to get there, but I have to warn you, it's not going to be fun," Larry said.

"We will do what is required of us for the resistance," the vortigaunt replied.


	4. Freedom and Slavery

The door swung open into the bathroom and a vortigaunt shuffled in, pushing a yellow bucket full of brown water, a brush and a mop. The red light on its green security collar blinked in the darkness until the alien reached up and flipped on the lights.

The walls were grimy and green; the floors a slimy yellow. As the vortigaunt pushed the door open on the first stall, it heard voices in the large floor grate next to the wall, one a whisper, the other a low grumble. The creature looked down to a see a human face looking back.

The man pushed the grate open and lifted himself out of the hole. Next came another vortigaunt, its middle arm carrying a television.

"Alright Morty, this just might work," Larry said.

The two vortigaunts began talking excitedly … well, at least what passes for excitement for vortigaunts, Larry thought. They went back and forth for a minute before he interrupted.

"We apologize to the Larry," Morty said. "We had much to discuss with the arrival of the Free Man."

"Great, but we need to get moving or we'll be late," Larry said, speaking over the janitor Vortigaunt as it launched into a speech about the reckoning of the Combine. He moved to the bathroom door and set his SMG on the sink. "Morty, wait behind the door, and when the guard comes in, hit him over the head with something.

Larry stepped out into the hallway and approached the CP standing guard.

"Officer! There's an alien in there trying to take off his collar!" Larry shouted, trying his best to sound scared.

"Move," the cop grunted, pushing Larry aside and striding toward the door. He threw open the door and slammed it shut behind him. The guard's shout "Hey wha---" was followed by a large crashing sound. Larry rushed in to find the CP face down with a destroyed sink on his head.

"Good job Morty. Overkill, but good," Larry said. He grabbed the keys off the CP's belt and thumbed through them for a short one that looked like a mailbox key. "I need to borrow that," he said to the toilet-cleaning alien. The vortigaunt looked down, shrugged and held out his mop. "Not that! Your collar."

Larry stepped around behind the alien, inserted the key and the collar popped open with a swift click. He remembered what happened the last time he freed a vortigaunt, and hoped this one wouldn't take to following him everywhere too.

Larry then reached down and began stripping the guard. No sooner had he pulled off the standard-issue pants when he felt the hair stand up on his neck. He dove to the scummy floor and out of the way of the blast of energy from the vortigaunt's hands.

"Jesus! You trying to kill me?" Larry yelled.

"Our intent was not to harm the liberator," it said, pointing to the smoldering corpse that used to be a CP.

"Well be more careful," Larry said, starting to pull on the guard's uniform. "You should probably head back down through the sewer if you want to go another five minutes without being re-collared."

"The liberator will not escort us to safety?"

"Sorry. You don't want to go the way we're going." Larry finished putting on his new boots. The uniform was a little too loose in some places, so he stuffed in toilet paper to try to fill it out as the freed vortigaunt slipped down into the hole and pulled the grate over his head.

"Why did the Larry not allow him to join us?" Morty asked.

"Because he'd get captured all over again. There's only one collar to go around," Larry said, tossing it to Morty.

"The Larry does not expect us to submit to slavery again?"

"It's only for a little while. I'll take it off again."

"No! We will not become tools for the Combine!" Morty said, his voice rising to a growl.

"Relax big guy, you're not going to be tools for anyone. Have I ever lied to you?"

"The Larry did not say we would have to wear a collar!"

"Trust me Morty. I won't leave you for a second. I promise," Larry said, pulling the CP mask over his head. "Oh, and you have to lose the TV. Now put the collar on and try to look miserable."

"We do not think that will be a challenge."

Several minutes later, Larry pushed Morty across the train platform.

"Is this the 4:25?" Larry asked, the suit's respirator muffling his voice.

"Yes. You almost missed it. Why are you late?"

"Last minute addition. This slave removed his restraint and attacked another officer. I'm taking it to be re-educated."

"Fine. We'll take him from here."

"Negative. I have orders to monitor it until we reach the facility," Larry said, trying to sound official.

"Very well." The officer slid open the nearest door on the razor train and the pair stepped inside. Larry chained him into a seat then sat down on the opposite side next to the door. The officer swung it shut and the dim lights overhead barely illuminated the car.

"I can't believe we fooled them. This thing hardly fits," Larry said, shifting uncomfortably.

"The Larry's plan seems flawed. Trains do not travel to Black Mesa East."

"Well we're not going directly there, but near enough for a short, safe walk," Larry said.

"Where is this train's destination?" Morty asked.

In answer, a tone rang out from a loudspeaker followed by a woman's voice.

"4:25 train departing City 17 on time. Making stops at Water Treatment Facility and Overwatch 2nd District Outpost. Final destination: Nova Prospekt."


	5. Darkness at the End of the Tunnel

The razor train sliced through the muggy afternoon air, barreling on undeterred to its destination: Nova Prospekt. The apartment buildings and Combine outposts dropped and gave way to the barren outlands and sludge filled canals carved through them.

Helicopters and gunships soared overhead, searching for anything unusual. City 17 had been on alert since the early morning. The refugee network was rooted out and destroyed; manhacks swarmed the sewers and CPs the surface. There was no doubt – something big was going on.

The train slowed as it began its assent into the mountains. The car couplings creaked and the wheels grinded below as it approached the tunnel that would take it out to the coast and up to the prison. Inside one of the cars, sat two members of the resistance, a human dressed as a Metrocop and a Vortigaunt wearing a glowing collar, Larry and Morty.

"Hear that? We're slowing down. It'll be soon," Larry said.

"Could the Larry do us the pleasure of removing this collar?" Morty asked.

"I can't yet," Larry said. "Each car has sensors hooked up to the front. It sets off an alarm if a sealed collar is removed."

"We HATE this collar," Morty growled.

"I know, but we don't want to alert them before we have to open this door. Soon, I promise," Larry said.

Outside, the train's horn blared to signal the guard station outside the tunnel entrance and to warn any patrolmen to clear the tracks. Car by car, the train disappeared into the blackness of the tunnel. The train kept a slow pace as it passed through, but the echoes off the wall raised the sound to a deafening roar.

"Alright! This tunnel is short, so let's make this quick. You don't want to jump too late" Larry shouted and threw open the door. A red light flashed to life. He knew the guards would be alerted, but he also knew they wouldn't stop and check … not here.

"We must jump?" Morty shouted, the wind whipping around them.

"Yeah! And make sure to roll!" Larry yelled. "Oh wait a sec!" He turned and grabbed the SMG he left on his seat. "Okay! GO!"

Morty leapt out into the darkness of the tunnel. The Vortigaunt hovered in space briefly, then was swept away as he crashed hard into the glowing blue barrier at the end of the tunnel.

"SHIT! MORTY!" Larry jumped out after him, and grunted as he hit the gravel and started to roll. The keys on his belt went skidding into the brush lining the tracks. The train continued to rush by. Larry pulled himself up to his feet and half-ran, half-limped back toward the tunnel. As he approached he could see the alien's body slumped against the barrier. "Morty! Are you okay?" the Vortigaunt was still for a moment, then slowly rolled onto his back with a groan, his eyes shut tight.

"Now can the Larry remove our collar?" he asked.

"Sorry, I uh … lost the keys," Larry said. The Vortigaunt's eyes shot open.

"A forcefield? But we must not separate," Morty said, his voice sounding almost panicked. Larry put his hands on the barrier. Even through his gloves, it reminded him of the surface of water, flowing, but this surface was impenetrable.

"It doesn't look like we have a choice," Larry said. "I guess I'll just have to meet you at Black Mesa East. Here's what you'll do. Turn around and head back down the tunnel. On your right you'll see a lambda symbol. There should be a grate. Climb down there and it should take you into the underground entrance."

"But the Larry will not survive by himself. Only a few hours of sunlight remain. The Larry will need my help," Morty said. The Vortigaunt raised his two outer arms and placed his hands against the barrier, across from Larry's.

"Just get going, Morty. I'll be fine. I've been doing this kinda stuff for years," Larry said. The alien dropped his hands and took a few steps back.

"The Larry must be careful."

"Don't worry. This will be a walk in the park." With that, Morty turned and walked away into the tunnel. Larry headed away from the tunnel, toward the small train station. The windows were all smashed and the walls were charred black, like it had been set on fire.

"A walk in a park in Hell, maybe."

On the platform hung a dirty white sign with big red letters: Welcome to Ravenholm.


	6. Hope Abandoned

Hope Abandoned

Morty trudged through the dark tunnel, looking for a neon marker that would point the way to Black Mesa East. The Combine collar around his neck still blinked its red light. While it was on, he would be unable to use his electric discharge. This was upsetting, as it was to all Vortigaunts. Their electricity was an extension of their essence, their being. Without it, well, a Vortigaunt didn't truly feel like a Vortigaunt.

Gunfire rang out behind him, echoing down the tunnel from the direction he left Larry. Morty looked back with an expression that might have been worry, if one could determine the facial expressions of Vortigaunts. He paused a moment, then turned and trotted farther down the tunnel, eager to find a way to Black Mesa East.

Larry unloaded his clip at the front door of the train station. He had peeked inside to see if there was anything useful inside and a zombie threw itself against door, howling its awful moan. Now all that was left was a shattered door. Larry crept close again and looked through the hole to see a smoking corpse on the ground. But something was missing. Suddenly, a pale headcrab screamed and leapt toward his face.

"Ahhhhh!" Larry shouted and tumbled backwards down the stairs. The little monster landed next to his head and he hit it as hard as he could with the butt of his SMG. The thing stumbled a little and chirped. Larry jumped onto his knees and began pounding it with his gun, holding the muzzle with two hands and using it like a sledgehammer.

"Die! Die! Die! Die!" The alien's green blood trickled out from its underside. "God I hate these things! Give me a strider any day." Larry stood and climbed the steps back to the station, kicking open what was left of the front door. He made a quick survey of the place. Nothing worthwhile. "Great."

From the train station, the town of Ravenholm spread out across the valley. A church steeple rose to the left above the rest of the town. Below that the town stretched to the right: houses, apartments, shops and factories. Larry thought this must have been a quaint place to live once.

Everyone knew about Ravenholm in City 17. Most of it was rumor and speculation, but those in charge let (or helped) it spread to remind people what would happen in the event of a rebellion. The town was one of the last to be free of Combine control. Its hidden location in the mountains kept it under the radar. It soon became the last stronghold for those who didn't want to live in slavery and the resistance blossomed.

Then, somehow the Combine found out about the town. But they never set a foot in Ravenholm. They loaded up rockets with headcrabs and shelled the town nonstop. It wasn't long before those monsters, and the fear and panic they caused, destroyed Ravenholm. If anyone told you they'd been there after the shelling, you didn't believe them, because most people who go in never come out.

Luckily, because the Combine never went there, they never found the passage to Black Mesa East and the resistance managed to remain intact. Larry hoped that passage still existed. He had no idea where it might be, but it was his only chance to find a way out of this hellhole. Morty popped into his head for just a second, but he knew the alien would safely find a way to Black Mesa, and maybe he'd bring a rescue team. Sunset wasn't for another hour or two, but since the town was surrounded by mountains, it would get dark sooner … and Larry did not want to be here when night fell.

In the distance, a loud wail echoed across the mountains and was answered by several more. Larry shivered and knew it was time to get moving. He took the sloping path down the hillside. Every sound made Larry jump. His eyes were constantly scanning the distance for anything moving. From the church, Larry could almost swear he heard organ music wafting from the church. Yeah right, he thought. Like there's anyone left here.

He rounded a corner and found three zombies slumped against the wall. Their headcrabs still attached, Larry guessed they were still alive, or still undead. Maybe they're sleeping, he hoped. He tiptoed quietly past the first two, sitting together, and was just about to pass the third when the church bells began to ring.

"Oh dammit." The zombies let out an unearthly growl and clumsily got to their feet. He fired on the one ahead of him, aiming for the headcrab perched on its shoulders. The alien was shredded and tumbled off backwards, the body collapsing on top of it. Behind him, a zombie swiped at his back. He barely dodged, and turned, shooting at the headcrabs. They collapsed. Just as Larry started to compliment himself on his own shooting ability, a squeal sounded above his head. Two headcrabs, these ones with longer, skinny legs, jumped down onto the pathway he had just come from. Larry aimed carefully and pulled the trigger.

Nothing. Larry took a few steps back, feeling the CP uniform he still wore to check for clips. He found none. The leapers stood still, seemingly unsure of themselves for a moment, then rushed toward Larry. He turned and sprinted in the other direction. Larry could hear the monsters' claws furiously scraping the stone road behind him. He came to a chain-link fence surrounding a building and threw himself at it, frantically climbing and throwing himself over the other side. Larry got to his feet in time to see the leapers soaring into the air, over the fence and past him. They landed and slid into a wall then scrambled back as he took off down an alleyway, ducking a slow moving zombie. He turned to see one of the leapers jump, but not in time to dodge the zombie, all three crashing to the ground. They quickly untangled themselves and took up the pursuit.

Again Larry darted, sweating and struggling for air as he ran. Then he had an idea. He ducked into an open door, through what looked like it used to be a living room and into a hall. He stopped to see the leapers round the corner and into the room. They jumped for his face, but Larry ducked in time to send them crashing into a bedroom. He ran down the hall through the kitchen and out through the backdoor, slamming it behind him. Two loud thuds sounded on the other side. He quickly sprinted around to the other side and slammed the front door.

Morty crouched as he moved through the small underground passage. His neck was sore from the collar, but the red light was his only way of seeing where he was going. The flash gave him a brief picture of the tunnel every second. After who knows how long, he came to a split in the tunnel. The left side had the lambda symbol painted on a wall. The right was boarded up, and someone carved DO NOT ENTER and RAVENHOLM into the wood. Morty paused for a moment, trying to decide whether to continue on to Black Mesa, or go back and try to help the Larry. He brought a hand to the collar and wondered how much use he could really be without the energy of the Vortigaunt. Morty stood at the tunnel fork, struggling to decide.

Larry bent over, hands on his knees, gasping to catch his breath. His SMG dangled from the strap around his neck. I need to find some ammo for this thing, he thought. The town was definitely getting darker now, although the sky was just beginning to turn a bright, fiery red. He couldn't tell exactly where he was. The church loomed in the distance behind him, but the mountains still seemed far ahead. I'm never gonna get out of here before nightfall, Larry thought.

From somewhere behind him, an awful howling rose up from the rooftops. It was the same noise he heard while standing on the hill at the train station, but this time it was much, much closer. Larry had never heard the noise before, but hoped whatever it was, it was from this planet. Wolves, maybe? Are there still wolves out here? Larry wondered.

A dark shape scampered across a far roof, fast, on all fours, leapt onto another and then climbed down the wall out of sight. Two more followed. Another popped up on a closer roof before ducking away. "No, definitely not wolves," Larry said. He turned and took off again. His legs were still burning and he had never caught his breath, but those things were motivation enough.

Larry dashed through the streets, darting in and out of alleyways and cutting through buildings, ducking the slow zombies and trying to get some distance between him and whatever was chasing him. After a few minutes of running, he figured he must have shaken them by now. Larry leaned his back against the big glass window of what looked like it was once a shop. He tried to think of what to do next, but trailed off as he heard something scrape the brick wall above him. He looked directly up, and into the headcrabbed "face" of a zombie. The headcrab was one of those fast ones he ran from earlier, and the zombie was completely stripped of skin and organs, leaving just bone and muscles. It smelled terrible.

The monster let out a guttural growl and leapt. Larry barely dodged, but not before it got a good swipe at his arm, slashing his skin and cutting the SMG strap. He caught the gun before it dropped and smashed the zombie over the head with it, knocking it back. It whipped around and jumped at Larry. He dove, sending it crashing through the glass window.

Larry ran across the street and into the doorway of what looked like a warehouse. He looked back to see the two more skinless monsters hop down from the roof. He slammed the door shut and darted down the long hallway. He reached the door at the other end and pulled hard on the handle, but it wouldn't give. Larry tried pushing and still got nothing.

"Shit! Shit shit shit! Come on!" he yelled. It was locked. He threw all his weight against it but it wouldn't budge. Behind him, the zombies were frantically scratching at the other door, which rattled on its hinges. One arm came crashing through the door, then another. They growled, tearing the hole wider and wider. Finally the door shattered open and the monsters came through.

Larry held his empty gun up, as though he was going to fire it, preparing to use it to at least fight to the end, if this was it. His finger brushed across a small button above the trigger, one he hadn't noticed before. He reflexively pushed it.

Fwooosh! A small object the size of a pear flew out of the tube on the underside of the gun. A grenade! Larry's face burst into a smile, then quickly settled into a look of horror. He saw the monsters galloping toward him and then it all went white. The blast threw Larry against the wall, and he blacked out.

Larry's ears were still ringing when he woke up. He put his hand up to his pounding head and it came back bloody. The hallway was smoky now and two huge holes had been blown in the walls where the round blew up. Outside, he could hear monsters moaning.

"Well, that must have woken up every freak in town," Larry said. Zombies began to shamble through the shattered door. Larry pulled himself up against the wall, facing down the hall. The door on his left was still closed. He'd hoped that at least he might have blown it open. Zombies were pouring in now.

Through one of the holes he opened, a bigger zombie shuffled in. It was covered in giant, black headcrabs, the size of sea turtles, and another crawled slowly alongside it. Larry tried another shot. He closer his eyes and pushed the button, but the gun was completely empty now. There was nothing he could do.

As the zombies crept closer, something began pounding on the door to his left. More of those things, Larry thought. He never thought he'd die this way. He always feared he'd be tortured by combine and left to rot in wherever they take you afterward. Not in Ravenholm. His eyes started to tear up. At least I got Morty to Black Mesa, he thought. The pounding continued on the door, the screws flying out of the hinges. The zombies were close now, the biggest one leading the way. One of the big black headcrabs tensed up and jumped toward his face. Larry closed his eyes, resigned to his fate.

Then he heard the door to his left burst open, and the headcrab crash into it.

"We have found the Larry!" he looked up, never so happy to see Morty as he was right now.


	7. The Forsaken Travelers

Half Life Chapter 7

The Forsaken Travelers

"Morty? What are you doing here?"

"The Larry must get up!" Morty grabbed him around the collar and dragged him into the room, slamming the door behind him and pressing the lock. The steel door rattled in its hinges as zombies pounded on the other side.

"That won't hold stop them," Larry said.

"Then the time has come for us to leave this place."

"Couldn't agree more. Let's move," Larry said as he slowly got to his feet, holding the wall to keep his balance. He suffered a bad blow after the grenade round went off in the hallway.

"The Larry is hurt?" Morty asked.

"I hit my head pretty bad," Larry said. "But I think the bleeding's stopped."

"We will aid you." Morty slipped his right arm under Larry's left and around his shoulders.

"Thanks buddy," Larry said. The vortigaunt grunted in reply and the two shuffled across the warehouse floor and down another hallway. After passing through a few offices, they came to a door to the outside. Through the door's small window they could see the street was empty, except for a zombie chopped in half with an axe protruding from its middle.

Larry tried to think. He was afraid there would be more of those fast ones running around out of sight. But they couldn't hang around any longer and growls echoed in the warehouse behind them. 'Makes me kind of wish I was back there with the manhacks,' Larry thought. It was then he noticed the manhole cover.

"Alright Morty, let's make for the sewer quietly. If we can get down there without being noticed we might be safe." The alien slowly pushed the door opened and helped Larry down the cement steps. They moved to the middle of the street, eyes darting around wildly in every direction, listening for the smallest sound. Larry knelt down and tried to get his fingers around the edge of the lid.

"Hey," he whispered. "Give me a hand." Suddenly the zombie's upper half sprang to life, moaning horribly and dragging itself toward Larry. Morty lifted the manhole cover with two hands and sent it crashing down on the zombie's headcrab. Green slime oozed out.

"That was close," Larry sighed.

"Quickly, into the hole," Morty replied, staring back at the warehouse. Larry looked up to see zombies pouring through the open door and headcrabs scrambling under foot. He hopped feet first into the hole, grabbing hold of the ladder.

"Come on!" The zombies converged on Morty, who was now wielding the sewer cover in one hand like a shield. He whipped it toward the first skinless zombie, severing his spine at the neck, then bashed another across the head. A black headcrab leapt and Morty grabbed it with his middle hand, took a bite out of it and tossed it aside. He batted away another with his shield, then grabbed another fast zombie with his two hands and ripped it in half, all the while backing toward the sewer opening.

"Go!" Morty growled and Larry backed down the ladder. One of the slower zombies grabbed the manhole cover and fought with Morty for it. He pulled and then pushed, holding tight but sending the monster reeling into the other zombies and toppling a few over. Another headcrab sailed toward Morty. He grabbed it out of midair and stepped into the hole, dropping the manhole cover into place behind him and landing next to Larry with a thud.

"Will that hold them?" Larry asked.

"They are not intelligent enough to understand it. They will scratch and claw at it until they lose our scent," Morty replied.

"Well then nice work," Larry said, holding out his hand. Morty held out his, but it was still clutching a live headcrab.

"Holy hell!" Larry yelled, recoiling. The creature squealed and its little legs flailed furiously. Morty brought it up to his mouth and took a big bite out of its side. The headcrab shrieked, then went limp. He offered it to Larry.

"Hell no, that's disgusting."

"Yes, we enjoy them more when they are cooked as well."

"Why do we always end up in the sewers?" Larry asked, scanning the tunnel. "Let me see now, the factory was that way, and the sun was setting over here, so I think we need to go down this way." Morty began walking in the direction he pointed, still munching on the headcrab. After a number of turns, the pair came to a dead end. A pipe poured water at their feet and a chain dangled from a shaft above it. Looking up, Larry could see light filtering into the shaft, forming a square. Larry pulled the chain, and a ladder came down out of the darkness.

"That's strange," Larry said. "It's not even rusty." He grabbed hold of the ladder and climbed up, Morty following. When he got to the top he reached a heavy metal door. Bracing himself with one foot on the ladder and the other across the narrow shaft, he pushed with all his might and flipped the door open.

They surfaced inside a basement. A single light bulb hung from the ceiling. He pulled himself up and Morty did the same. They climbed the stairs and found the rooms to be bare and all the windows securely boarded. They couldn't find a way out, and so climbed another set of stairs to the second floor. Larry approached the first door and opened it. Inside, he saw a sight so beautiful he was nearly moved to tears.

Shotguns and assault rifles hung on wall racks and crates marked "Ammunition" were piled up on the floor. A dozen pistols sat on a table, and another was covered with grenades. Larry lifted one and felt the weight in his hand. He couldn't believe their luck.

"Do you think someone still lives here?" Larry wondered aloud. "Think they'd mind if we borrowed a few? …"

"Morty?" Larry turned to see the vortigaunt hunched over in the corner, his hands fiddling with something. "Morty? What are you doing?" Larry peered over his shoulder and saw what the alien had been so focused on.

There sitting on the floor, was a small television. This one looked considerably newer than the one they'd had in the freight car, and had a slot for a videotape in the bottom.

"Here we go again," Larry sighed. He took a shotgun down from the wall and cocked it. "Alright, grab some guns. We might make it out of here alive after all."

"We do not use weapons," Morty said. "It would be a sin against the Vortessence." He lifted the TV up to his huge eye and peered into the dark screen.

"Well I'm sorry I lost the key to that collar," Larry said and tossed a small machine gun at Morty, who caught it with one of his free hands. "But you're gonna need to do more than swing a TV if you want to make it 10 feet past the door." Morty looked at the gun with uncertainty.

Suddenly Larry felt the cold metal of a rifle's barrel stuck against the back of his neck. The gunman cocked it. Morty spun toward the door and growled at the person holding the gun.

"You've brought a demon to my home, brother," he said. "This town certainly needs no more of those." Larry dropped the shotgun at his feet and raised his hands. He turned, slowly and came face to face with man dressed as a priest. The man was bald, dirty and unshaven. He raised the rifle to between Larry's eyes, close enough that he could read the name "Annabelle" carved into the side. On the man's right hand was a scar in the shape of a cross.

"Uh he's – he's not a demon," Larry stammered. "He's my friend."

"Resist the devil," the stranger said, "and he will flee from you."

"Wait! Wait, you're a priest. You can't kill me if you're a priest."

"I won't kill you, brother," he said, turning the gun on Morty. Larry could see his finger tighten around the trigger. "But I will exorcise your demon."


	8. Lost Sheep

Half Life Chapter 8

Lost Sheep

Light from the bulb hanging from the ceiling glinted off the black steel of the shotgun's barrel, which was pointed squarely at Morty's head.

"I'm telling you, he's not a demon for Christ's sake," Larry yelled at the deranged priest.

"Do not take the lord's name in vain, brother," the priest said. "The commandments forbid it."

Larry never put much stock in religion, but he had no intention of letting Morty find out whether there was an afterlife. "Please let me explain," Larry started to argue.

Suddenly a crashing sound rang out from the hallway and down the stairs. The mad priest's eyes glanced over his shoulder for a split second, and Larry took the opportunity to attack. He pushed the gun's barrel toward the ceiling with one arm and swept the man's legs out with his foot. Larry jumped on top of him as he fell and tried to wrestle the shotgun away from him. The two struggled, but the priest possessed surprising strength and threw him aside.

He stood up and pointed the gun at Larry, who was now lying at Morty's feet. From the hallway, the moan of a zombie echoed up the stairs.

"You are an angel of death brother. You've brought those creatures into my home and for that I must send you to eternal judgment," the priest hissed. Morty stepped forward and crouched in front of Larry, blocking him with his body.

"We will not allow that," Morty said. "We are responsible for the Larry's well being. We owe the Larry." The priest hesitated, his mad eyes confused.

"What trick is this monster? Demons do not know the meaning of self-sacrifice."

"I told you, he's not a demon," Larry said. "Now just point your gun elsewhere and give me a chance to explain." The priest nervously backed up a few steps and slammed the door shut. He cautiously let the shotgun's barrel drop, but kept his finger on the trigger.

"The lord says 'judge not, lest ye be judged,' so I will hear your story," the priest said. Morty lifted Larry to his feet with his two free hands. Larry brushed himself off and sighed. He was starting to miss the days when he was cooped up in that train car with Morty listening to Breen, helping people out of the city and dodging metro cops.

"He won't hurt you," Larry said, motioning to Morty. "We're part of the resistance inside the city. He's not like those monsters outside. He was a slave of the people who brought those monsters into your town. He might not look human, but he has a good heart."

"We do not have hearts. We have a series of fluid-filled sacs that …"

"What I mean is he's saved my ass a number of times. He's an alien, but he's a friend."

The priest stood still, considering this for a moment. He opened his mouth, about to speak, but caught his words when they heard slow, shuffling footsteps on the stairs.

"This place is no longer safe, brother. It is time to leave. If you wish to make it out of the city safely, take some weapons. You'll find these creatures are not as noble as your companion," the priest said.

"Believe me, I know. How do we get out of here?" The priest didn't answer, but moved to the door and began to stack some crates. Larry immediately began to help. He thought that with all the guns in the room they might be able to make a stand and get out safely. The priest was very methodical in his stacking, building a wall against the door, a smaller one behind that, then smaller and smaller ones. Larry was puzzled.

"You think that will hold them?" he asked.

"Look to the heavens, brother, and you will find salvation," the priest grinned. At the top of the makeshift staircase was a hatch in the ceiling they hadn't noticed when they'd come in. The priest climbed to the top and lifted the hatch. "My name is Father Grigori. Welcome to Ravenholm."

He pulled himself into the attic and motioned for them to follow. Morty clambered up the boxes and into the hatch. Larry began quickly pulling guns off the wall and throwing their straps over his shoulder. He grabbed a shotgun first, then stuffed his pockets with ammo. Next he strapped a grenade belt around his waist, and it was then he noticed the pulse rifle, which had been hidden behind the crates, lying on the floor. Oh yeah, Larry thought, I've been waiting to get my hands on one of these babies. He snapped in a full clip and stuck some ammo into a bag.

"Hurry friend," Grigori shouted from the attic. Larry turned to climb the boxes when a zombie started pounding on the other side of the door. The crates rattled and started to move out of place. He jumped onto the first level, weighed down by all the weapons he was carrying. Larry pulled himself up to the next and a crate from above toppled over, narrowly missing his head. He kept climbing, trying to keep his balance. Suddenly the door shattered and the staircase started to tumble. Larry was frantic now, almost at the top. The uppermost level of boxes had fallen, and a clawed hand was swiping back and forth, trying to reach him.

"Give me your hand brother!" Larry reached up and grabbed Grigori's hand. Morty caught his other one and they pulled him up just as the boxes collapsed and the zombie stumbled into the room. It began to smash the wooden crates, looking for the prey that had just eluded it. Those things might be dangerous, but at least they weren't smart. "I have a path across the rooftops, it will bring you to the sea," Grigori said.

"We're not going to the coast, we're trying to get to Black Mesa East," Larry said.

"Ah I see. I was there once, before the city was destroyed. I will help you get back there."

"Why don't you come with us? Leave this hellhole," Larry said.

"This hellhole is my home brother. These monsters are my congregation. I must be a shepherd to my sheep, even if they've turned into wolves, heh heh," Grigori replied.

Below, the zombie continued smashing crates. As he broke into one, the trio heard an electronic sort of chirp. Larry looked wide-eyed at Grigori, who must have had the same exact thought.

"Grenade crate!" Grigori threw open a door and they bounded across a wooden plank over an alley to a neighboring rooftop. They ran straight across and onto another roof. Still no explosion.

"Why hasn't…" BOOM! Glass shattered with the initial explosion, then the top floor began to rip itself apart as the rest of the grenades and ammo went up.

"Holy sh- I am so sorry," Larry stammered. "I don't know how that thing followed us."

"You are forgiven brother. I sleep in the safety of the church in these trying times. That was merely my former home," Grigori said. He stared at the blaze now engulfing his home, the fire reflecting in his eyes, memories flashing through his mind. "God has provided you a distraction as you make your way to safety. Now, let us hurry."

As they ran across rooftops and ducked through attics, Grigori told Larry what had happened. The shelling began during a holiday festival when everyone was outside celebrating. The town square was a scene of unimaginable carnage. They had sent the quick headcrabs first to turn people quickly, then sent the regular and poison species in the ensuing confusion. It had happened so fast that no one had much chance to escape. Some ran for the train station, but they were met by Combine troops. The town had destroyed the train tunnel long ago to keep them out, but they started digging it out to reopen the track for a faster route to Nova Prospekt. The station was far enough from the town that no one heard the digging. It was when Combine workers broke through that they discovered Ravenholm.

"So what about the name on your gun?" Larry asked. "Who's Annabelle?"

"She was my wife. I had been home recovering from pneumonia with her when the attack started. We barred the doors and I grabbed the shotgun. I despised weapons, but my wife insisted that I keep it in the house. It made her feel safer. Soon the monsters broke through the front door. Annabelle was terrified and screaming. She ran out the back door to get away, but one of those tiny beasts landed on her.

"I tried to take it off her, but it held tight. I watched her turn into one of those demons. I heard her scream until she could no longer breathe. I saw her fall … and get back up. Then I killed her." Grigori stopped. Larry felt sorry for the man.

"We're here brother," Grigori said. They had come out through an alleyway into what looked like it used to be someone's back yard. From the tree hung the lower half of a human body. Larry was disgusted, but glad they hadn't encountered any zombies the whole way. Grigori's path was hidden and quiet, and most of the zombies must have been drawn to the explosion. He led them to a shed in the back of the yard. Larry realized it only appeared to be a shed. Inside was a ladder to an underground passageway with the familiar lambda symbol painted on the wall.

"Thank you for all the help. And sorry again about your house. Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" Larry asked.

"I murdered my wife. This, now, is my punishment. My hell. Perhaps the lord will forgive me for killing them because I am sending his children to him and spare me everlasting damnation." Grigori looked back toward the village and then turned and smiled at Larry and Morty.

"Besides, heh, if you can't beat them, join them!" Grigori erupted in laughter and ran off into the darkness. Larry understood the man's insanity now. Could anyone live through the apocalypse that took place here and keep their mind intact? He and Morty began to climb down the ladder, away from that damned place. To safety.


	9. Safe at Last?

Half Life Chapter 9

Safe at Last?

Larry peeked through the window in the blast door. All he saw was an empty hallway. He wondered how often they patrolled this part of the base.

"We think the Larry made a wrong turn," Morty said.

"No this is where we're supposed to be," Larry replied. "We just need someone to come let us out." As if on cue, a person in a white lab coat turned the corner down the hallway. He seemed young and overwhelmed, with ruffled hair and a red face. In one hand he was holding a cup of coffee, in the other he was trying to juggle a clipboard, a pencil and a few pieces of paper. Larry began pounding on the door to get the man's attention. Unfortunately, the blast door was designed to protect against rocket fire and explosions explosions. He had heard Black Mesa East was once a missile silo.

Just as the scientist passed the door, the pencil began to roll off his clipboard. He tilted it the other way to save it, causing the papers to fall off and the pencil with them. Larry could see him mouth a curse word and then lean over and begin picking everything up. He examined his pencil and its now broken point. He would have to go back and get another one. The man sighed, took a sip of his coffee and turned, coming face to face with two brown eyes and one enormous red one.

The scientist spit his coffee all over the blast door and screamed. His coffee cup and clipboard went flying as he took off down the hallway.

"Well, at least someone will come get us now," Larry said.

"And we can finally be free of this device?" Morty asked, fingering the metal collar still firmly locked around his neck.

"Yep," Larry said. He turned back to look at the door and right down the barrel of a shotgun. Behind it an angry face yelled something. Larry couldn't hear, but he was pretty sure it said 'get away from the door.' Larry grabbed Morty's arm and pulled him back. Gears began to crank and the door groaned upward into the ceiling.

"DROP YOUR WEAPON!! GET DOWN ON THE GROUND RIGHT NOW!!" Several armed resistance members stood on the other side of the door, all pointing guns at Larry and Morty. Larry dropped the bag of ammo around his neck and threw his rifle away, but Morty held tightly to his television.

"Hey, hey relax we're part of the resistance!" Larry yelled.

"How do we know you're not a spy?! And how did you make it through Ravenholm?" the man yelled.

"How could I find this place if I wasn't one of you?" Larry shouted back, hoping they would see reason.

"It's awfully convenient you show up now, when the Combine are on high alert and scouring the entire area. The city's been going to hell in a hand basket," he responded.

"Ask anybody! I was posted at the head of the escape route," Larry said. One of the men in the back of the group perked up and squinted at him in the darkness.

"Larry?" a familiar voice asked.

"Dan?" Larry responded. Larry had known Dan since they first arrived at City 17. They particularly like each other and he hadn't seen him in about a year, but he was glad to see him now.

"It's okay guys," Dan said. He put his hand on top of the leader's rifle and pointed it to the ground. "I know this guy. He's one of us." The rest of the team relaxed and walked back into the hallway. Larry grabbed his gun and ammo and followed them out. The team leader pushed a button on the wall and the blast door slammed shut. He glared and Larry and Morty and walked away.

"Don't worry about him," Dan said. "Everyone's just sort of on edge around here because of everything that's going on outside."

"Yeah we were there for the start of it. Some guy in a crazy jumpsuit came through our post and my day's been hell ever since. Metrocops, manhacks and zombies," Larry said.

"Wait. Crazy jumpsuit?" Dan asked. "Was it Dr. Freeman?"

"The one free man," Morty responded.

"You know that guy?" Larry asked. "We sent him on the escape route, but the metrocops were all over it. I doubt he made it out alive."

"Well you guys made it out," Dan said. He didn't exactly seem happy to be saying it. "Besides, I heard he just showed up here after taking an airboat through the canals."

"What? Are you serious?"

"The one free man cannot be defeated. He brings salvation," Morty said again. His eye looked off into the distance. Larry figured he must have been daydreaming.

"I see you're still stuck with the vortigaunt," Dan said.

"I'm not stuck with him. He saved my ass in Ravenholm," Larry snapped. He surprised himself by how defensive he got when it came to Morty.

"Okay okay. Relax buddy." Larry bristled at the word buddy. "Well listen, let's get you head and arm checked out and then you can tell me why you decided to come here the hard way." Dan slapped Larry's arm a little too hard where the zombie scratched it and he winced in pain.

They all headed down to the medical center and a doctor began to check Larry out. Meanwhile, Morty conversed with another vortigaunt that was helping the doctor. Larry didn't really pay attention as they spoke in their native tongue. As the doctor bandaged his head, Larry told Dan the whole story, meeting the guy with the glasses, the manhacks in the tunnels and jumping the train to Ravenholm.

"Sometimes I wonder how it even took the Combine so long to find Ravenholm. I mean the train tracks lead right to it!" Dan said.

"Uh yeah, anyway, so there Morty and I got split up. He went through the sewers to come here, and I had to go through the town. Ended up lying in a hallway where I almost killed myself with a grenade when Morty showed up and pulled me out of there. Then we met some crazy priest who apparently had been living there the whole time and he showed us the way out."

"A priest living in Ravenholm? Now you're the one who's crazy," Dan said with a laugh.

"No really there was —"

"And don't tell me you named that lizard you've been hanging out with," Dan sneered. Larry narrowed his eyes at the man.

"I'm gonna let that slide because I've known you since we got put on the train to come here," Larry said angrily. "But he's my friend, so I don't want to hear another word."

"Seriously Lar, how can you trust those things?" Dan whispered, leaning closer. "Everyone knows that they're hiding something. We only put up with them because Vance trusts them for some reason."

"Okay that's it," Larry stood up. "I'm out of here. I hope I don't see you for another year." Larry walked over to Morty and tapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry to interrupt, but let's go get that collar off you."

"Yes. We long to be reunited with the Vortessence," Morty responded.

As they walked out of the medical center, Dan called after him. "Hey if you want to get your _best friend's necklace_ off, check the supply room two floors up!"

Larry cursed under his breath and the pair walked down the hall to the elevator. As they waited for it to come, Larry thought about what Dan said. He had to admit that he'd been suspicious of the vortigaunts at first. Larry had thought of him as more of a dog than a partner — something he had to put up with and look after. But then he remembered Grigori's words and how Morty had put himself between Larry and the priest.

"_What trick is this monster? Demons do not know the meaning of self-sacrifice."_

Larry knew he couldn't be bad. He came all the way through Ravenholm just to find him. Morty was his friend. The elevator dinged as it reached their floor and snapped Larry out of his daydream. Morty stepped inside first and Larry got in behind him and pushed the button for the third floor. Next to him, Morty fiddled with the collar around his neck, eager to have it removed. Larry looked down and realized he was still wearing a CP uniform. This was the first quiet moment he'd had all day where nothing was trying to kill him.

The elevator doors opened up and Morty quickly stepped out. Larry led him down the hall to a door marked "SUPPLY ROOM."

"Alright buddy, this looks like the place. Whaddya say we perform a collar-ectomy?" Larry thought Morty smiled at him, but couldn't be sure. He pushed the door open and flipped the light switch. Nearly empty metal shelves lined the concrete walls and boxes were scattered around the floor. "Whoa. They need to restock."

Larry began to root around through some boxes. One wooden crate was filled with crowbars, another with metal bolts the resistance uses for makeshift crossbows. Empty medkits, batteries, there was nothing here.

"Has the Larry discovered a key yet?" Morty asked. Two of his hands were folded expectantly, the third still clutched the small TV he'd picked up in Ravenholm.

"I'm still looking. Why don't you plug in your TV over there and see if you can pick anything up?" Morty looked down at his television, but didn't move. He wanted that collar off bad. Larry continued rummaging around, opening drawers and pulling open boxes. He moved to a closet on the far wall and opened it up. Inside were laundry bags full of rebel clothes and body armor hanging from hooks. He began dumping them out in hopes someone saved a CP uniform, but it didn't look like it. Well I might as well change in the meantime, Larry thought. He pulled off the uniform and put on some jeans, a pair of boots, and a gray t-shirt. Over top of his clothes he put on a blue bullet-proof vest without thinking. When he realized what he had just done he laughed. Larry was so used to fighting that he put the vest on out of habit, so much so he didn't even take it off. He was hoping for a nice long break after all this blew over.

"Well Morty, I didn't find anything," Larry said. The vortigaunt's head drooped and he looked at the floor. "Hey don't worry big guy. We'll go find Vance and he'll get it off." They shuffled out of the supply room and bumped into a resistance member dressed in a full Combine uniform, mask and all.

"Oh jeez, sorry man," Larry said. "Hey listen, actually, do you have a key to a vortigaunt collar? I couldn't find any in there." The man shook his head no and backed up a few steps to let them out of the room. "Okay well tha…." Suddenly an alarm rang out followed by a deep rumble somewhere above. Larry put his hands up to his ears to shield them from the ear-splitting claxon. He looked up at Morty, whose concentration was focused on the rebel.

"Freeze!" a garbled voice shouted. The rebel was a Combine soldier and was aiming his pulse rifle squarely at Larry's face. He was really starting to get sick of having guns pointed at him. The soldier looked at Morty, then back to Larry. He reached behind him and pulled out a ring of keys. "Looking for these, scum?" he said, jingling the keys.

In an instant, a small television flew into the soldier's head and knocked him to the ground. Larry leapt forward, snatching away the gun and kicking the soldier between the ribs. Morty was already fumbling with the keys, trying each until one clicked. The collar split apart and clanged on the concrete floor. Morty sighed and began to hum. The hairs on the back of Larry's neck began to stand up and he instinctively took a few steps backward. Just as the soldier began to scramble to his feet Morty let out a blinding light. Larry closed his eyes and when he opened them the soldier was gone and there was a black scorch mark at the far end of the hall. Somewhere upstairs another blast shook the walls. It was a full scale invasion.

"Welcome back pal," Larry said. He slid the clip out of the rifle, saw it was full and snapped it back into place. "Now let's go kick some ass."


End file.
